


Train Station

by visi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/M, High School, Light Angst, Meet-Cute, Strangers to Lovers, yes all i write are rom-com style fics what about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:21:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28222314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/visi/pseuds/visi
Summary: Maybe you should stop allowing pretty boys to destroy your life.
Relationships: Kageyama Tobio/Reader
Comments: 9
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

_As insignificant as we may be, we are still the working components of this universe._

* * *

Above you, the train intercom flickers on, but whatever it says is muddled by the music pumping through your earbuds. It's not like it matters anyway. The trains here are almost always on schedule and yours isn't due for another ten minutes. You readjust your right earbud and up the volume on your phone. It's too early for you to be listening to anything other than your choosing; you're not sure you want to accidentally overhear another conversation about eggplant sizes.

Trains rumble into the station, shaking the platform you stand on ever-so-slightly. The school bag in your hand jiggles with the motion but having anticipated this, you have everything safely stored deep inside the pockets. 

The morning crowd hasn't flooded the train station yet, but you know it is too early for rush hour. After all, only your participation in Aoba Johsai's student council is what has you at the train station at such an ungodly time. There's barely anybody here, just a service worker who looks like he's still waiting for his caffeine to kick in and a few other strangers who tap their feet impatiently and check the train listings religiously, as if anything will change. 

You hover a good distance away from the tracks, scrolling through your various playlists as you wait for your train to pull in. Your usual morning commute playlist doesn't seem to be cutting it today. Every song seems somber, dull, or boring, though you suspect that it might just be because you play this everyday. A quick search leads you to a set of upbeat, oldies American pop music which causes you to hesitate, before you shrug internally and hit play anyway. It's certainly different from your normal taste but then again, you suppose there's a first time for everything.

_Where it began, I can't begin to knowing. But then I know it's growing strong._

To be honest, a small part of you thinks the sudden disinterest in your regular music is a sign. Your gut whispers that something's about to change. But whatever it is, you don't bother to contemplate because your train comes into the station and the voice on the intercom confirms its arrival.

You stand up from the lamppost you have been leaning on and step inside the moment the doors whoosh open, since the empty car means no one is coming out. A few other people clamber in with you, but you all situate yourselves far away from each other. You choose a seat at the far end of the car, placing your bag in between your legs and nodding your head to the music.

_Was in the spring, then spring became the summer. Who'd have believed you'd come along._

Everything so far has been ordinary. Nothing about your routine has changed, so you silently brush off that earlier thought that something was going to. It's the same, repeating—

A loud flurry of noise whisks your attention away from your phone. You glance up and see a teenager who can't be much older than you practically wheezing as he steps inside, like he'd sprinted three miles to get here. Other passengers have noticed him too, subtly shuffling away like his mussy hair and appearance is somehow infectious.

On the other hand, you straighten up and tilt your head to the side in interest. It's rare to see another high schooler taking the same train as you, especially this early in the morning. You don't recognize his face so you assume he must go to a different school. He's still standing in front of the train doors when they close but he seems so relieved to just be _in_ the train car that he makes no move to sit down. This proves to be a mistake because when the train jolts forward, the black-haired male stumbles back and knocks his head against the door window.

_Hands, touching hands, reaching out, touching me, touching you._

You bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing, but a tiny chuckle slips out anyway. Unfortunately for you, the male is _not_ wearing any earbuds or headphones and he hears your amusement clearly. Automatically, his cheekbones and the tips of his ears flush a vibrant red color and he hurriedly sits down in a seat across from you before any more similar accidents can occur. 

Once he sits down, his eyes meet yours and it causes the blush on his cheeks to intensify. He turns and stares determinedly out the window in embarrassment as your own heart skips a beat.

 _He's pretty_. The corners of your lips curl upwards as you shamelessly scan him over. Raven black hair sweeps over his eyes and his body sits rigid on the seat, like he's in the middle of an strict interview. His arms and legs are lean but toned; _he must do some kind of sport_ , you muse. 

But you turn your gaze away, not wanting to continue creepily watching him and make him uncomfortable. Yet it feels as if your entire being has been revitalized, even though you haven't drank any coffee or tea. Your posture is good, your mouth seems to be etched into a permanent smile, and your eyes brighten.

_Sweet Caroline. Good times never seemed so good._

Logically, you know that there's no sociably acceptable way for you to talk to him without making it obvious that you're flirting but you can't help but run through the different scenarios in your head, were you to theoretically approach him.

What school does he go to? In the back of your mind, you vaguely recognize the uniform but it lacks a logo and nothing you do jumpstarts your memory. Whatever school it's from, he looks _good_ in it at the very least. He's tall—tall to the point where you would suspect him to be a second or third year were it not for his quiet, shy demeanor. First year probably. Definitely not a middle schooler, since you don't know any middle schools in the region who have that uniform. 

But if he goes to school nearby, why haven't you seen him before? It's odd, especially since you've taken this same route to school for the past two years. You're bound to have encountered him before, right? And at the same time, you're sure that you would remember seeing this person. Maybe he's a transfer student? It's a possibility but an unlikely one. Transfer students aren't unheard of, but they certainly don't transfer halfway through a semester. Who is this guy?

All these questions scurrying through your head pique your interest in him even more. It's rare for you to be experiencing any sort of change in your routine and _rarer_ for the change to be so pretty-looking. Of course it's only natural that you should be intrigued.

_I'd be inclined to believe they never would. But now I..._

And even as the universe gives you this blessing, it rips your opportunity to take advantage of it just as quickly. You see your stop flash across the sign above the doors and you internally sigh. It seems like you have to dream of talking to this mysterious male another day. The trains pulls to a stop rather smoothly and you stand up, hoisting your bag up onto your shoulder.

There's only one other person who exits at this stop as well, and you wait for them to hop off first. Before you step out of the car, you sneak one more glance at the cute, black-haired boy to discover with surprise that he's already looking at you. When the two of you make eye contact again, you smile brightly at him which throws him off guard. Flustered, he scrambles to look back down at his feet and you resist giggling from the giddiness. Not wanting to hold up the train however, you walk out onto the platform, turn around, and pause, watching the train close the doors and speed away. 

It's just for a flash of a second, a time-frame so minuscule that you wonder if you imagined it, but you swear you see the mystery boy's lips curled into an awkward grin as he stares at his feet before the train disappears out-of-sight.

It causes your heart to inadvertently flutter.

_...look up at the night and it doesn't feel so lonely._


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

_Seek meaning only in the things that make you happy._

* * *

Theoretically, you will probably never see that boy again.

But theoretically, you _might_. And it's this thought that propels you to the train station the next morning with more vigor than you have ever managed before. In your haste, your earbuds drop out of your ear and dangle dangerously on the crook of your right arm, but you don't stop to fix this until you've arrived on the platform.

It's rare for you to be so excited to be here, especially when your energy stems from something other than coffee. You bounce up and down on your feet, just because there's so much enthusiasm coursing through your system right now that you have to release some of it physically. 

When is the last time you saw a boy that pretty? You have to admit that your school has its own fair share of good-looking people but none of them have ever been nearly as adorable as Mystery Boy. His blushy behavior does more than make your heart skip a beat; it completely _decimates_ you. How can you possibly stop yourself from wanting at least get one more glimpse of him?

Unlike yesterday, you pay much more attention to your surroundings. Your eyes rake over the sparsely populated station, in search of the familiar black hair but no one even _vaguely_ resembles Mystery Boy. A pout takes hold of your lips. _Had yesterday just been a one time thing? Maybe he only needed to take the train for a special event and he isn't planning on ever coming to this station ever again._

The thought causes your shoulders to slump. It's the most likely possibility, and it explains why you've never seen him before yesterday. Scanning the vicinity one more time, you realize that it's probably best if you stop your hopes from rising and instead concentrate on getting to school. There isn't a point in being disappointed just because a boy you met literally a day ago doesn't show up to your train station.

You pick your earbuds up and place them into your ears before whipping out your phone. On the very first page of your music is the playlist you tested out yesterday, the oldies American pop songs. Seeing this reminds you of that gut feeling you had yesterday that something was about to change. You make up your mind immediately and hit play, swaying subtly to the beat once the music starts.

Of course, there's absolutely nothing logical that connects this particular playlist to the appearance of Mystery Boy but it can't hurt, right? Besides, there's something strangely uplifting about listening to this oldies music first thing in the morning.

_Come on, Eileen. Come on, Eileen. Poor old Johnny Ray sounded sad on the radio._

Your train pulls into the station not long afterwards. You step inside without a second thought, taking the same seat as yesterday. Since you need to review the notes from yesterday's student council meeting, you start rifling through your bag and fail to notice the only other person who climbs in after you.

It's not until you finally find the wad of paper and pull it out of your bag that you glimpse the same, lean legs from yesterday. When you look up, you're met with the piercing, black eyes you've been thinking about for the past 24 hours. Heat creeps up Mystery Boy's face and causes his cheeks to tint a soft shade of pink but before he can turn away again, you grin and wave at him. 

He coughs violently in response to this and grabs his bag off the ground, staring intensely at the name tag like a detective searching for clues in a murder mystery. 

You hold the notes up in front of the lower half of your face to hide the smile that's practically bursting from the seams. His reaction had been so blatantly awkward that a part of you wonders if you'll ever manage to make it out of this train without suffering cardiac arrest. 

_But he moved a million hearts in mono. Our mothers cried, sang along, who'd blame them?_

While he's engrossed in the (definitely) fake examination of his name tag, you seize the opportunity to check him out once more. His black hair falls over his forehead with the middle section of his bangs pulling together into the shape of a triangle. Your gaze sweeps over his hands and you eye the long, slender fingers with admiration. _This kid could model one of those As-Seen-On-TV Products._

But you eventually focus back in on the the uniform he's wearing. You know it's a local school; it _has_ to be, considering you know the uniform has some air of familiarity. And yet, curse your horrible memory, there's absolutely no school that comes to mind. What schools are in the area? There's a few that you can name off the top of your head but you don't remember what any of their uniforms look like.

Would it be weird to visit some of the schools just to see what uniform the students are wearing? Grimacing, you realize that idea seems a little stalker-ish—and not to mention the fact that you just don't have any time. With the school sports festival coming up, you're more than busy trying to organize all the events and convince people to help volunteer. 

A small huff escapes your lips before you you can stop it, but it's quiet enough that Mystery Boy doesn't appear to hear. Why is your schedule so insistent on ruining your love life before it even starts? This isn't fair at all. 

_You're grown (so grown up). So grown (so grown up). Now I must say more than ever..._

Shuffling noises across from you alert your attention to what Mystery Boy is doing. He digs around in his backpack and his face practically lights up when he pulls out a strawberry milk carton, quickly undoing the straw wrapper and punching the straw into the box. When he places his lips over the straw and starts sipping like a vaguely annoyed toddler, your heart collapses. 

You summon all the willpower you have to not gush openly at him. Is this a sign that you've been watching too many romance dramas? There's no way that you've been blessed enough to meet possibly the cutest boy in the entire world on your morning commute. Maybe the universe is pulling a cruel, cruel prank on you and the next time you blink, he'll be gone.

Before you can delve too far into your thoughts about the universe being out to wreck your life, the train intercom crackles alive and a smooth voice announces your stop. You shove your notes back into your bag and stand up as the train slows to a halt. The doors open and you walk towards them, looking over at Mystery Boy before you leave. Smiling broadly, you mouth "bye," not expecting a response.

To your surprise however, he hesitates for a moment and then nods, though his eyes quickly skirt away from your gaze. Elation takes a hold of you and the moment your feet touch the train platform, you already make up your mind.

_You're going to talk to that boy the next time you see him, no matter what._

_(Come on, Eileen.) Too ra loo ra too ra loo rye aye. And we can sing just like our fathers._

* * *

It's been two days since you first saw Mystery Boy at the train station and you are currently filled with a determination that can only be described as unwarranted confidence. _But also_ , you note, as you stare proudly in the mirror. _I'm fucking gorgeous. How could the universe possibly refuse me now?_

Your hair looks fly, your makeup is _sharp_ , and your outfit? Well, that's still your school uniform but you're (Name)-fucking-(L/N)! You can pull anything off!

And so when you arrive at the train station that morning, you're practically brimming with giddiness. You realize that you've never actually heard Mystery Boy speak before, and spend the next five minutes it takes for your train arrive imagining what his voice sounds like. _Does it have a lower, deep tone quality, or is it on the softer side? Maybe his voice is so low that you can feel his chest vibrate when he speaks. What if he has an accent?_

In fact, you're so caught up in your thoughts that you barely notice when your train pulls in. It takes the hustling of several other people around you for you to snap back to reality and rush into the open doors as well. 

Luckily, your usual seat remains unoccupied but as you glance around at your fellow passengers, you can't help but wonder why so many people are getting on this particular train. On busier days, you might be sharing the train with two or three other passengers but to have a solid fifteen people clambering on alongside you? It's practically unheard of.

You desperately rack your brain for anything you might be forgetting. Did all school clubs suddenly decide that they were going to start having before-school meetings? That was unlikely—and plus, all these people seem to be young college students. Is there a sports tournament within the area? You don't think there is but then again, you're not exactly well-known for having a stellar memory. 

And then it hits you. There's a music festival taking place in the central business district and this must be the morning crowd, trying to get to the festival to buy tickets. That's why all these people are crammed in here, having voluntarily woken up this early in the morning to try and get good spots at the festival.

But that also means that all the seats around you are filled with strangers, none of whom happen to be Mystery Boy. Crestfallen, you watch as one more person makes it into the train—Mystery Boy—only to be completely obscured by everyone else. There's no way you can approach him without making it awkward in this kind of crowd. 

You purse your lips together. As much as you don't want to admit defeat, it truly seems like today's a dud. With this many people swarming around, you doubt it'll do anything to help Mystery Boy's timidness. If anything, it'll just make it easier for him to hide if you approach him.

Letting out a petulant sigh, you fold your arms across your chest and mutter some colorful language at the universe, soft enough so that none of the people next to you can hear. 

_Fight me, universe_ , you think bitterly.

* * *

And as it turns out, the universe does fight you. 

It's awful.

The day after the music festival fiasco, you wake up with a throat that hurts so badly that you can't speak. No amount of hot tea or medicine will give you back your voice, so you resign yourself to only managing a wave and weak smile at Mystery Boy. He looks a little alarmed at your disheveled state and looks like he's gathering up the courage to ask you about it but you merely tap your throat and shake your head. Though he looks a little bewildered at your nonverbal communication, he turns away which you're rather thankful for, since you'd rather not talk to him sounding like the devil's voice actor. 

And yet, even though you completely recover the next day, the universe finds another way to stab you in the gut. You end up forgetting to set your alarm the night before and by the time you've woken up, you've missed your train by five minutes. The moment you look at the clock, you let out an exasperated groan and roll out of bed, not mustering enough energy to make it to school on time either.

When the next day rolls around, you swear to yourself that today is your day! _The past three days have been anomalies_ , you reassure yourself. _There could be no other possible scheme the universe could cook up today!_

But there is.

Five minutes after you've finished brushing your teeth, your phone lights up with a text from the student council president.

**stuco president:** _hey, sorry guys! short notice but meeting's cancelled, enjoy your mornings!_

You nearly scream.

It doesn't take a genius to know that there's really no excuse you have to be boarding the morning train now that your meeting is cancelled. If you went just to see Mystery Boy, you would be locked out of the school building for at least half an hour with nothing to do. Is there any way you can possibly win? How could everything seem to be conspiring against you?

You're so frustrated that you don't notice the milk overflowing from the bowl until it drips off the counter and onto your sock. "Oh, crap!"

Maybe the universe just hates you.

* * *

When you wake up this morning, it's with renewed conviction. Every single one of the factors from the previous failures have been considered and amended. Your alarm was set five minutes early, you have cough drops in your bag, there aren't any festivals or events scheduled today, and you texted the student council president to confirm that there's a meeting. All you need to do now is get your ass on that train and finally talk to Mystery Boy!

 _I can do this_ , you chant to yourself, like the Little Engine that Could. _I got this! I can do this!_

You don't see Mystery Boy by the time you get on the train but you don't panic, since he usually arrives right when the doors about to close. Your fingers drum nervously on your lap and you crane your neck to see the platform, searching for every little sign of him but spot none.

 _Huh_. Your eyebrows furrow together and a horrible feeling settles in your gut.

Something's off. The seconds tick by but Mystery Boy still fails to show.

The train doors close, leaving you alone in the train car.

Your heart drops and you suppose you've missed your chance.


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

_Every object in this universe is in constant orbit._

* * *

Mystery Boy doesn't appear for the next four days.

During this period, any hope you have of ever seeing him again withers away until you resign yourself to your Mystery Boy-less fate. This is fine, right? You tell yourself that it would've been stupid for you to try and establish a relationship with a boy who didn't even go to your school anyway. What would you have gotten out of it? Just a friend on the morning commute?

You continue boarding the train in the morning at the same time and even though this is the exact same way you used to do it just two weeks ago, the empty feeling in your gut doesn't ever evaporate.

 _Ahh,_ you bemoan to yourself. _I'm clearly too much of a sucker for a cute face_.

At some point, you stop listening to your old, American pop music too. The entire playlist had been exhausted and it wasn't exciting anymore. You return to your normal routine, the one you'd already made peace with before you ever met Mystery Boy.

However, this doesn't stop your friend from teasing you about him endlessly. "(Name)-chan, your life was perfectly lined up to be a perfect romance drama! I can't believe you let fate do you this dirty!"

"I should've like, crushed his milk box or something," you say, clenching your fist to display what should've happened.

Your friend blinks wordlessly at this statement. "Wait, I'm lost. What would that have accomplished?"

"I'm not sure, but I think it would've established a _relationship_ at least," you explain, twirling your pen between your fingers. "We could have been enemies instead of just strangers. Then we could've been the enemies turned lovers. Then we could've gotten like, a dog."

"All this from crushing his milk box? Damn." Your friend whistles appreciatively at your train of thought. "So what do you think you're going to do now?"

"I don't think there _is_ anything I can do now. I missed my window of opportunity," you say, letting out a long sigh and allowing your head to drop onto the table.

"There there." Your friend pats your back reassuringly. "That _train_ has passed already, but you'll get the next one!"

"Don't ever make that joke again."

"Got it."

And your life continues on, because it must. You sit through boring student council meetings, try to hype disinterested teenagers at pep assemblies, borrow pencils from your seatmates, and forget important deadlines. _Logically_ , you try reasoning with yourself. _Nothing ended because nothing ever started. My life doesn't revolve around a dumb boy_.

You don't fall out of step with this cycle until you pull an all-nighter preparing for the school festival, two weeks after you've last seen Mystery Boy. Decorations for the school festival manage to fall to you at the very last minute, since the person who'd been in charge had fallen ill. Never before have you ever seen so many paper flowers littering your floor at once. 

A part of you wants the person in charge of decorations to stay sick forever out of bitterness.

But miraculously, you manage to get them all done and when you arrive at school, you're sleep-deprived and sporting the biggest eye-bags known to mankind. If only you hadn't been tasked with managing a takoyaki booth, you probably would've napped all the entire festival away. But alas, the school festival ends with you tired, exhausted, and clutching onto your last two brain cells lest they should decide to leave too. 

"Nice work today, (Name)-san!" shouts the student council treasurer. You manage a weak wave before walking off campus, praying that you don't just fall asleep in the middle of the sidewalk. What time was it? By now, the sun was almost past the horizon, barely illuminating your path to the train station. Swarms of mosquitoes hover underneath streetlights and you swat them away until you arrive on the train platform, where only a few other people stand. 

_It is pretty late_ , you think to yourself, pulling out your phone to check the time. _The after school rush is over and now the only people going home are people who worked overtime at the office or kids who had extracurriculars._

You rub your arms, mentally chiding yourself for forgetting a jacket that morning. The night is ripe with the promise of rain, and as you scan the skies overhead, you wonder if it'll deliver anytime soon.

At least you don't wait too long until your train pulls into the station. No one else climbs on with you, so you have the entire train compartment to yourself once the people onboard step off. In here, the heating is obviously turned on so you relax almost immediately against the seat. However, that means the likelihood of you falling asleep on this ride is heightened and it's not exactly like you can ask somebody to wake you up at your stop, considering there's no one else in the compartment.

 _I'll have to stay awake on my own_ , you nod to yourself firmly. _No problemo. I'm (Name)-fucking-(L/N)! All I have to do is keep these eyes open and this mind sharp!_

So you clench your fists and promise yourself that no matter what, you will absolutely not fall victim to the temptation of sleep. Even if _gosh_ , you could really use it right now. _No!_ You clap your cheeks with your hands in reprimanding. "Now's not the time to be falling asleep!"

 _But damn_ , you internally groan, _sleep sounds so fucking good. Just a few minutes of shut-eye wouldn't hurt, would it?_

Knowing yourself though, the moment you fall asleep, you'll stay knocked out for at least three hours. That was something that you could absolutely not allow to—

This erratic mental argument is suddenly interrupted by the train intercom announcing, "Next stop, Platform 6-20."

You freeze. 6-20? Isn't that after your stop? As the train rumbles onto the platform, you're struck with the horrible realization. You worried so much about falling asleep and missing your stop that you stayed _awake_ and missed it.

"I'm so stupid," you groan, burying your face into your hands. Once the train doors fly open, you recall remembering them opening earlier, right when you were in the middle of debating whether it'd be a good idea to close your eyes and sleep or not. How did you manage to not recognize that as your stop? "Damn, I really need sleep," you mutter to yourself, as you climb off the train and onto the platform. 

Fate spares you the small mercy that this stop isn't too far away from yours. It won't take too long for you to walk back to your house but you still grumble over the extra distance between you and your bed.

"It is my fault, I guess." You sigh out loud to yourself. Around you, the only other sounds are the crickets in the grass and the very faint sound of laughter. Ignoring this, you opt to instead focus on kicking a small pebble on the ground. It rolls in the direction you walk in for a little bit but after a kick with too much power, ends up rolling underneath a vending machine next to the sidewalk.

The vending machine buzzes and attracts your attention to its contents. _Strawberry milk?_ Your stomach rumbles and you frown. How much money do you have on you? You drop your bag onto the ground and start digging around, looking for spare change. The jingling of coins makes you cheer out loud, pulling the bag out quickly and inserting the coins into the vending machine.

Behind you, the sound of laughter has grown louder and you can now hear voices speaking to each other as well. "Kageyama-kun! Let's go buy some milk!"

"Shut up, Hinata."

You swivel around at the mention of milk. Are they talking about the vending machine you're at? The very first thing you see is a blur of orange. It takes you a few seconds to realize that this is a person, hopping around like Tigger from _Winnie the Pooh_. Your milk clatters down to the slot of the vending machine but you ignore it, too shocked by the person you see standing next to the orange-haired boy.

It's Mystery Boy.

Just at this moment, he looks up as well and your eyes meet. It feels surreal to be honest, like him standing right there is some kind of crazy dream you're having after eating too much sugar right before bed. But you know _very_ well that you haven't had any sleep so you can't be dreaming.

You grin, waving enthusiastically at him. He freezes up, before giving you an awkward half-bow that makes you laugh. Turning around, you grab your milk carton and jog over to the pair. The orange-haired male smiles at you. "Hi! Do you know Kageyama-kun?"

"I've seen him around," you say, with a small shrug of your shoulders, pretending like you haven't been actively moping about _not_ seeing around for the past two weeks.

"Woah, Kageyama-kun! How did you get to know somebody so pretty?" the orange-haired male gushes as your heart beats faster. _He's here_. _He's here and he's standing in front of you_. _It's really happening_.

"Shut up, Hinata," Kageyama says, his cheeks flushing a dark red, his eyes flickering away from yours, like he's determined not to make eye contact with you in his embarrassment. You don't blame him; it's not as if you two have ever directly interacted before, as much as you want to.

"We took the same train for like a week some weeks ago," you explain, as the other male's eyes light up in recognition.

"Oh, was it because our gym was doing renovations? We had to move gyms for a week because they had to do repairs on ours!" Hinata exclaims as your own eyes widen. That'd explain why he'd never been on the train before then and why he suddenly stopped. "I'm Hinata Shoyo! What's your name?"

"I'm (Name) (L/N)." You eagerly shake his hand and look at the boy that's been plaguing your mind incessantly for the past few weeks. "And I'm assuming you're Kageyama-kun?"

"Kageyama Tobio," the male practically yells out before sinking into a deep bow at your feet. Really, you have to resist pinching his cheeks and cooing at how cute he is. _This moment is real. It's real and suddenly, you feel a little unsure of yourself, like you're treading foreign waters._

You quickly wave your hands in front of your face. "There's no need for formalities! I'm really happy I got to finally meet you."

"U-understood!" Kageyama stammers, as your heart bursts. _Pretty faces really are going to be the death of you_. 

"What school do you go to?" Hinata asks, as you move your attention back to him.

"I go to Aoba Johsai," you say, watching as their faces slowly blanch. "A-ah, did I say something wrong?"

"Aoba Johsai, I guess everyone has their flaws," Hinata mutters bitterly as Kageyama nods solemnly.

"What school do you guys go to?" you ask curiously. After all, you still have yet to pinpoint exactly where you've seen that uniform before.

"Karasuno!" Hinata shouts, striking a pose as Kageyama flicks his forehead. Automatically, Hinata clutches the spot in pain and frowns at Kageyama before continuing. "We'll be playing against Aoba Johsai in a volleyball match at their gym on Thursday!"

"Really?" you ask in surprise. 

"Yeah, you should come!" Hinata proceeds to give you the biggest smile known to mankind.

"I-If you want to," Kageyama corrects quickly, though the tips of his ears color. 

_Don't pinch his cheeks, don't pinch his cheeks,_ you chant to yourself internally. You have absolutely no interest in volleyball but it's your stupid brain wanting to see them again that makes you say, "Yeah, I'll be there!"

"G-guff, grood, g-good," Kageyama manages as you resist giggling and embarrassing him.

As much as you want these butterflies in your stomach and your foot tingles to last forever, the sun's already dropped past the horizon and shrouded the sky with a blanket of stars. You really have no choice but to hurry home. "I should get going. It's getting late but I guess I'll see you guys Thursday?" you ask, flashing finger guns at the two of them.

"Bye (Name)-chan! It was really nice to meet you!" Hinata says.

"Have a safe n-night, (Name)-san," Kageyama says, his words still strained like he's a hotel greeter on his first day. _Cute_ , you think to yourself.

"Bye guys!" You try not to give away how excited you are _too_ much but you think it shows when you almost skip back onto your path back home, stabbing your milk carton and taking a sip with a smile so wide, it threatens to split your face in two.

There's something different about this particular encounter with Mystery Boy. You're leaving while knowing you'll definitely see him again. And maybe it's stupid, but the thought is enough to make your damn heart flutter.

**Author's Note:**

> hiya, it's still vic from quotev! i've just been slowly cross-posting my own fics onto ao3 bc i like the stats counter on this site :^)).


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